Past Rewritten
by TheAngelT'hy'la
Summary: Dean finally tells Cas about the Mark of Cain which causes Cas to pray for help. Cas is sent back in time to protect his friends. Will they end back up in the life and if so, will they survive it? Guardian!Cas and Young!Dean Mostly okay for younger viewers but a few disturbing thoughts and images.
1. Past Rewritten

"Carry on my wayward son,

There'll be peace when you are done.

Lay your weary head to rest,

don't you cry no more."

-Kansas

* * *

Castiel stared at Dean, trying to understand the information he'd just been given.

"Dean..." He croaked. What was he going to say? What _could _he say? Dean had just told him that he had the Mark of Cain. There's nothing you can say to that.

Cas felt a tear roll down his cheek. He knew there was nothing he could do.

"I know, Cas. I know." Dean closed his eyes and sighed.

"Why?" Cas struggled to push the sound through his lips. "Why would you do something like that? After all that's happened."

Dean sat down on the hood of the Impala, on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.

"I- I don't know, man. I thought-" Dean opened his eyes and stared straight at Cas. "I thought I could end it once and for all."

Cas sat next to the broken man and clasped his hands together.

"Please tell me you knew." Cas felt his voice shaking.

Dean nodded but didn't say anything as he ran a hand through his hair.

The two sat silently, staring out at the endless road in front of them.

"I wish," Dean started. "I wish things could've been different."

Cas nodded his head in agreement. He looked at the stars and remembered how he and the boys used to sit on the hood of the Impala and just stare silently at the stars. _Better days, _he thought.

Cas looked at Dean and tried to smile. "I promise you that I will fix this."

Dean opened his mouth to argue but Cas had already "zapped" away.

"I wish you could, Cas." Dean slid off the car and onto the ground before looking up at the sky again. "I really wish you could."

* * *

The church Castiel had taken himself to was dark and empty, but he didn't mind. It was exactly what he needed right then.

Cas walked up to the altar and knelt, hands clasping on the way down.

"Please..." Cas closed his eyes and slumped, hands falling into his lap half-clasped. "Please, just this once..." He looked up at the crucifix on the wall. "Help me."

He closed his eyes again and felt a rush of air and suddenly felt warm sun on his face.

Cas opened his eyes and tilted his head, eyes squinted at the sight before him.

Cas stood on a cliff that overlooked an ocean, sun warm and breeze softly bringing in the sea air. And seated on the edge of the cliff, his back to Castiel, was Chuck Shirley.

"Hello, Castiel." Chuck said, not looking back at the angel.

Cas looked at the man, squinting even harder.

"You gonna join me or what?" Chuck looked over his shoulder and smirked.

Cas tentatively walked forwards and slowly sat down with his legs hanging off like Chuck's.

"I should've known..." He grumbled, shaking his head.

Chuck laughed, deep but still with a hint of sadness. "Yeah, you should've."

He looked at Cas, his smile cracking. "You said you wanted help, Cas."

"I-" Cas looked at his hands, clasped together in his lap and sighed. "I just want them to be happy."

"Me, too." Chuck said simply.

Cas looked at him and frowned. _Why would he do all this if he wanted them happy._

"Don't ask stupid questions." Chuck answered, seemingly reading his mind. "Just listen."

Cas shifted in his seat and looked intently at the man.

"I have a job for you."

* * *

**_Lawrence, Kansas, November 2, 1983  
_**

Mary Winchester woke to hearing her 4 year old screaming.

She quickly pulled on her robe, glancing at the clock that glowed "2:37" before running into the hall and through his door, flipping on the light as she went.

Little Dean was curled up as close to the wall as he could, crying and screaming.

"It's okay, it's okay. Shhh." Mary pulled her son into her lap and held him as he whimpered. "It was just a dream."

Mary heard her husband run up the stairs and the small *thump* of him catching onto the door frame.

"Is he okay?" John asked, catching his breath.

Mary just nodded as Dean started to mutter into her robe. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"M-m-me and S-s-sammy," he choked out in sobs. "We w-w-were in trouble and..." Dean looked up at his mother, still clutching her robe in both hands. "There was an angel watching over us. Just like you said."

Mary looked into son's wide, green eyes and smiled.

"What did he look like?" She whispered, conspiratorially.

"I'm gonna go check on Sam." John smiled and left so they could have their privacy.

"He was tall with blue eyes and he wore a trenchcoat!" Dean bounced up and down on his mother's lap, all fears forgotten.

Mary furrowed her brows. "Trenchcoat?"

Dean nodded excitedly. "Yeah, and he said he'd fix it."

"Fix what?" Mary tried to still her voice and push the memories of her past from her mind. _Please let it just be a dream._

Dean tilted his head. "I don't remember. But... It scared me." He yawned and rubbed his eyes with his fists.

Mary held him close and stood before laying him back in his bed and covering him with his blankets.

"Well, it doesn't have to scare you anymore." She said, kissing his forehead and walking to the door.

"I love you, mommy." Dean mumbled sleepily.

"I love you, too." She flipped the lightswitch back down, smiling.

And just as she was turning her head, she thought she caught a glimpse of the angel Dean had described coming out of the corner and sitting on the chair at the end of Dean's bed. But as soon as she looked back, he was gone.

She walked down the hall to Sammy's nursery, shaking her head as if to clear it of the memories.

* * *

**_Johns Hopkins University, 22 Years Later  
_**

Dean Winchester had grown up seeing that angel everywhere he went. At the park, at school, at the church his mother took him to every Sunday when he was growing up, even at his High School graduation. But only when he was nervous or afraid or sad. And no one else ever saw him.

He would sometimes wake up at night from a nightmare and see him sitting on a chair or standing in the corner and smiling at him. Once in a while he would even whisper: "Go back to sleep. I'll watch over you."

As Dean got older, he began to think that the man wasn't real but instead was just something his imagination cooked up stemming from what his mother told him every night. "Angels are watching over you."

Walking across the university campus, Dean smiled at his childish thoughts. Angels weren't real, just a story his mother told him to help him sleep. And he hadn't seen the trenchcoat-clad man since before he left home for college.

His thoughts turned to his family: His brother was still in High School when Dean had been offered a full ride through Johns Hopkins, but now "little" Sammy was at the University of Michigan with a scholarship for their Automotive Engineering program where he'd met his girlfriend, Jess Moore, who had switched schools from Stanford.  
Dean's father, John, still owned that old shop with his friend and was planning on retiring when Sam graduated and could take over for him.  
And his mother, Mary. Dean had always gotten calls and letters from her while he was in school telling him how proud she was and how much she missed him. She was still that loving mother he'd always had and she'd only grown more beautiful with age. "Like fine wine," his father had said.

Dean had come to Johns Hopkins to be a surgeon but he'd switched professions for neonatologist after he'd learned how much he loved children and how comfortable they were with him.

The future looked bright, for everyone. But Dean still felt like he was missing something.

He couldn't place it, but he had a hole that he couldn't fill.

Dean's thoughts were interrupted by a scream that was quickly silenced by a growl of some sort.

Dean found himself suddenly racing towards the sound and into an alley where he found a man on the ground, his throat all but gone.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and he spun around to see the man in the trenchcoat.

"You just couldn't stay away from hunting, could you?" The man smirked slightly.


	2. Dreams or Reality

_"My greatest enemy is reality."_

_-Margaret Anderson_

* * *

_Dean screamed through his gag and pulled at the chains that held his arms and legs outstretched._

_"Aw, poor baby." A gravelly voice taunted. "Couldn't even protect his brother without screwing up." The voice laughed mockingly._

_Dean whimpered, unknowingly. "Please..." he croaked through the gag with a dry voice._

_The voice laughed again, sounding like it had claws that were scratching the rock walls._

_"What are you afraid of, Dean?" The monster hissed, suddenly next to his ear._

_The captive tried to turn towards the demon, but his neck was fractured in too many places to do anything but hang limply._

_He heard the clink of a knife being picked up and he began to cry. _Please, God, not again_, he prayed silently._

_The figure was suddenly standing above him. Dean flinched at what could only be the monster's face._

_"How about we take this off?" He ripped off the gag, causing Dean to gasp in pain which in turn made Alastair cackle._

_"Let's start off on the right foot, shall we?" He sang before plunging the dagger into Dean's abdomen._

* * *

**August 16, 1989**

Dean burst awake, his screams silenced by fear.

He whipped his head around, eyes wide and searching for the monster from his dreams but all he saw was the shadow of the trenchcoat-clad man in the corner.

"Are you alright, Dean?" he asked from the darkness, his voice low and rumbling but caring.

Dean tried to slow his breathing and shook his head. "No, I..." He pulled his knees up and burried his face in them, sobbing.

Castiel walked out of the shadows and sat next to Dean, taking the boy into an embrace.

"I'm right here. Nothing's going to hurt you." _Never again, _he thought. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Dean nodded, still curled with his face in his knees.

Cas released the boy but kept one arm on his shoulder and tried to smile an encouragement to him.

"I dreamed..." Dean looked up at the angel and shook his head, tears still streaking his cheeks. "I don't really know what I dreamed."

"Try to describe it." Cas encouraged.

"I was in a dungeon, like in those stories I read to Sammy," he whispered, staring at the wall. "But I was older. And there was..." Dean stopped midsentence, burying his face in his knees again and shaking.

Cas visibly tensed, fearing what he already knew Dean was going to say next.

"I couldn't move," Dean sobbed. "And it hurt so bad..."

_No, he's ten years old! He shouldn't be remembering Hell! _Cas pulled Dean in tighter with the one arm around him.

"It's okay. It was just a dream." Cas tried to sound calm but he knew his voice trembled.

Dean leaned into Castiel's chest and silently wept.

After a few minutes Dean pulled away and wiped his tears away, clearing his throat to compose himself.

Cas looked at his charge, so young yet so grown, and he sighed. _You're never going to be normal, are you?_

The comrades heard the doorknob turn and Cas disappeared just as the door opened.

"Dean, who're you talking to?" Mary stuck her head through the door, her face questioning.

"The angel." Dean explained as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Mary frowned slightly but quickly masked it with a smile. "Alright... Go back to sleep, okay?"

She closed the door again and Dean could hear his father's voice in the hall: "He still talking to that 'angel'?" he grunted.

"Yeah..." Mary sighed. "I didn't mean for it to go this far. It was a harmless thing to tell him growing up."

"Harmless?" John hissed. "Harmless? The kid's lost it! He's seeing this thing everywhere he goes now!"

Dean didn't hear anything for a minute or so until his father sighed.

"I think we may need to get help."

"John!" Mary snapped.

"Well, what else are we supposed to do?" John responded, struggling to keep his voice low. "Our son is hallucinating. At first, it was kind of cute for him to have an imaginary friend but now... It's not normal, Mary."

Dean looked around for his friend, willing him to appear, but to no avail.

"I know." Dean heard his mother say.

Dean curled up in his blankets and forced himself not to cry.

They wanted a normal son and Dean was determined to give it to them.

* * *

**The Next Morning...**

Dean sat at the table, re-checking his homework and eating his cereal.

Castiel waited until Sammy had left to go help his mother in the kitchen and then sat across from Dean and revealing himself.

"Are you ready for the pop quiz, today?" Cas asked, cheerily.

Dean hid his face behind his papers and refused to look at Cas.

"Dean?" Cas' smile dropped. "Dean, is something wrong?" Cas pushed the papers down, forcing the child to look at him. "Dean. What's the matter?"

"Go away." Dean responded.

"Did you say something?" Mary stuck her head in.

"No, ma'am." Dean replied, a plastered smile on his face as he adjusted his papers.

Mary smiled and returned to the kitchen.

"Dean, does your ignoring me have anything to do with what your parents were saying last night?" Cas looked at Dean sadly.

"Mom and dad want a normal kid." Dean kept his eyes on his papers, jaw set firm. "Talking to something that isn't real isn't normal."

Cas felt like he'd just been punched in the gut.

"Alright," he swallowed. "If it makes you uncomfortable talking to me, then you don't have to."

Castiel leaned forward and pulled Dean's papers back down so he could see directly into the boy's eyes.

"Just remember one thing: I will _always _be here to listen, whether you want to talk or not." he stated firmly before disappearing from Dean's view.

Dean swallowed and tried to concentrate on his papers and not on the fact that he'd just pushed away his best friend.


	3. Not Hunter but Healer

"A baby is God's opinion that the world should go on."

-Carl Sandburg

* * *

**December 19, 2002**

Dean walked through the halls of the NICU carrying two cups of coffee.

The sounds that wafted through the air made him smile sadly. So much sadness here, but in the end it was almost always smiles and laughter as the parents took their children home.

Dean turned into one of the rooms where a mother and father were seated and staring intently at the incubator with their daughter inside, breathing slowly but steadily.

Not 24 hours prior, the infant had stopped breathing and they'd been forced to insert a nasal cannula. The parents were staying calm, which wasn't easy to do, and Dean was inspired by them.  
Dean had seen parents leave to get lunch, their child sleeping soundly and in perfect health, and by the time they got back, the baby would be dead. That was cause for any parent to be afraid.

"May I come in?" he asked quietly.

The father nodded but the mother didn't seem to notice.

"I brought coffee." Dean handed the two cups to the father. He handed one to his wife, who took it without any reaction.

Dean looked at the little girl and smiled, slightly. She was one strong cookie. _Come on, sweetheart, you can do it._

Dean walked over to the incubator and checked the readouts, writing the seemingly random numbers on her chart.

She was stabilizing.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the parents, whom he'd been very well acquainted with over the past few weeks.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rayzer?" Dean waited until the father acknowledged him. "I'm getting off my shift but if anything happens, I'll be here as soon as possible. Okay?"

The man nodded, attempting to smile slightly.

"She's improving," Dean encouraged, laying a hand on the man's shoulder and squeezing slightly.

He walked out of the room and back down the hall towards the locker room.

"Winchester!" One of the nurses called. "You off?"

"Yeah," Dean turned and answered, walking backwards. "Usual arrangement?"

The nurse, Alex, lifted his hand to show an "Okay" sign.

Dean turned again and went to the locker room to take a shower and change.

Dean half-bounded down the front steps into the hospital before his phone started ringing in his pocket.

"Hey, Mom." He answered after pressing "Answer".

"Hello, sweetie." Mary's sing-song voice came through the speaker.

"What's up?" Dean asked, smiling. His mother called everyday at this exact time, without fail.

"I just wanted to check up on you. How's work?" She inquired, as usual.

"It's good," Dean replied. "The baby I was assigned to is doing a lot better. I think she might be being sent home, soon."

"That's great!" Mary cheered.

"Yeah," Dean smiled.

"Oh, your father wants to talk to you." Mary said as Dean could hear the phone being passed and a gruff voice take over the line: "Hey, kid."

"Hey, Dad." Dean suddenly sounded stiff and formal, his body subconsciously standing at attention. He'd always taken after his mother more than his dad so it was hard to make the elder Winchester proud.

"Your mother's worried you won't get here for Christmas before the storm blows in."

Dean swallowed uneasily. "I'll be there."

"You drivin' or flyin'?"

"Driving." Dean answered succintly. "I thought it'd be better for me to drive up a few days early to help Mom out." He added.

"Why not fly?" John grunted. "It's faster and cheaper." He emphasized the word "cheaper".

"I, um," Dean shuffled embarrassed, even if his dad couldn't see him through the phone.

"Please tell me you're not still scared of _planes_!"

Dean heard his mother say something and take the phone away from her husband.

"Dean, honey? It's fine if you don't want to take a plane, just as long as you get here, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am." Dean responded coldly.

"Dean." Mary stopped. "He didn't mean it the way it sounded."

"Yeah, I know." Dean placated. "Well, I gotta go. I have a lot to do before I leave."

"Okay, well, be careful and try to remember everything." Anyone could catch the motherly instincts seeping from her voice.

"Yes, ma'am." Dean laughed. "I'll see you in a few days."

Dean ended the call and headed back to his apartment.

* * *

**December 20, 2002 6:43am**

Dean was pulled from his book at the breakfast table by his phone buzzing in his pocket.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Dean. You asked me to call if anything changed?" Alex's voice.

"Yeah? What happened?" Dean set his book aside. _Please, oh please, not this one._

"The doc said the Rayzer kid's in such good health, she should be able to go home for Christmas."

Dean slumped in his chair and laughed. "That's great, man. I'll be there in a little bit."

* * *

**8:13am**

Dean walked down the hall, a spring in his step. He turned to the room he often visited and rapped lightly on the door.

"Good morning, Dean." Mr. Rayzer smiled at him, as did the unusually smiley Mrs. Rayzer.

"Morning." Dean stepped in and put his hands in his jean pockets. "I heard somebody was getting out soon and I just wanted to come visit before I got on the road."

"Oh, you're not going to be here?" Mrs. Rayzer sounded disappointed.

"No, ma'am. I have to go visit my family." Dean shrugged an apology.

"Well, before you leave," Mr. Rayzer offered his hand. "Thank you for helping us."

Dean shook his hand. "Any time." He turned to leave.

"Dean," He stopped short and turned at Mrs. Rayzer's call. "Stay safe." She smiled.

Dean smiled and left.

* * *

**December 24, 2002 6:19pm**

The kitchen was covered in mixing bowls and the mother and son were coated in flour from the "flour fight" they'd had a little while ago when Dean's phone buzzed, indicating that he'd been sent a picture.

He wiped his floury hands on a towel and pulled up the picture on his phone.

The picture was of the Rayzer's standing in their own home with their little girl in their arms.

Dean smiled and put his phone back in his pocket.

"Dean! Get in here, you're gonna miss it!" Sam called from the living room, indicating that the Winchester family tradition of watching "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" wasn't going to wait for him.

_Yeah, _Dean thought to himself. _It's going to be a great Christmas._


	4. Fate

"There is no good arguing with the inevitable."

-James Russell Lowell

* * *

**Johns Hopkins University, September 17, 2005**

Dean ran back to his apartment, not stopping for anything. As soon as he got to the door (almost running into it) he had his keys out and was scrambling to get it in the lock.

As soon as he stopped shaking, he was through the door and slamming it behind him, latching the locks before he backed into something about his height.

He turned around and backed hard into the door when he saw the man standing behind him.

"What the-?" Dean yelled.

Castiel just stood there, hands in his pockets and head tilted to the side with a slightly amused smirk. "You done running, now?"

"This can't be happening," Dean muttered as he pushed past Cas towards the bathroom.

"Dean, I understand it's jarring to see me, but I _am _real." Cas said following him.

Dean pulled a pill bottle out of the cabinet and shook out two pills in his hand before popping them into his mouth and swallowing without water.

"Dean," Cas sighed. "You don't have to take those."

Dean slid to the floor and leaned against the door jamb. "You're not real. All I have to do is wait for the Zyprexa to kick in and you'll be gone." He closed his eyes tightly, as if he could will Cas away.

"Look," Cas knelt next to the man. "Whether you want me here or not, you just saw something I've been trying to protect you from so you're stuck with me."

Dean opened his eyes and looked directly into Cas', jaw set firm.

"Well," the angel sighed. "At least you're not stabbing me, this time."

Cas rolled back on his heels and sat, crossing his legs and waiting for the other man to speak.

"If..." Dean hesitated, his gaze falling to the floor in front of him. "If you're real, then..." Dean closed his eyes hid his face in his knees, just like he used to when he was a kid.

"Then the body was real, too?" Cas finished for him.

Dean nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Cas hesitated before answering. "Yeah. I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean lifted his head again and looked warily at Cas. "So... What- Who _are_ you?"

Cas sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, this isn't going to be easy for you to understand but I need you to listen." He clasped both of his together.

Dean nodded and stretched out his legs. "Okay."

"Firstly you need to understand that the body you found today was killed by a vampire." Cas ignored the incredulous look Dean gave him. "There are people known as Hunters that go after them and other monsters like them and you," he gestured to Dean. "Were once one of them."

"No, I haven't" Dean insisted.

"Not in this time," Cas explained. "You see, I'm actually from the year 2014. I protected you and your brother for 6 years until..." Cas stopped and took a breathe, shuddering. "Until I couldn't do anything."

Castiel continued to explain who they all were in the future, how he and his brother were great protectors and heroes, but that they couldn't keep living like that and how Dean had taken on the Mark of Cain.

"I couldn't change it so I did the only thing left: I prayed." Cas sighed. "I was sent back here to make sure you had a chance."

Dean looked down at his hands in his lap. "Why would you give up Heaven for me?"

"Some things never change, do they?" Cas muttered. "You still don't think you deserve to be saved."

Dean looked at him quizically.

"You've asked me that many times," Cas explained. "And the reason stays the same: You and Sam are the best humans, no, beings I have ever met and I would die fighting by your side."

Dean continued to stare at the floor for a few minutes until he suddenly looked at Cas, a determined glint in his eyes: "Teach me."

Cas just blinked at Dean. "What?"

"Teach me," Dean repeated. "Teach me how to be a hunter."

"Dean," Cas stood up and walked into the small living room, rubbing the nape of his neck. "I came back here to make sure you lived a better life," Cas turned to face Dean, who had followed him. "Not teach you how to throw it away."

"Cas," Dean commanded. "You tell me that there are monsters out there hurting innocent people and that I have the ability to save them and expect me not to do something? Well, I don't know about how the future hero me would say, but I'm not gonna just stay quiet."

Cas looked at Dean and smiled. "That's exactly what he'd say."


	5. Study to show thyself approved

Note from the Author:

I apologize for this chapter being a bit slow but the information in here is kinda important.  
And please leave a review, if you can. It's really helpful so I can learn from whatever mistakes I make.

* * *

"Knowledge is power."

* * *

**US-36, Kansas September 25, 2005**

"I just need some time off, Mom," Dean spoke into the phone while attempting to keep one eye on the road.

"Yes, I know that but why would you throw away your scholarship? I know how much it meant to you." Mary responded with no anger in her voice. "Baby, is there something you need to tell me?"

Dean sighed. He knew he couldn't tell her the truth. _Yeah, I'm on my way to the outskirts of Lebanon, Kansas to meet with a real life angel who's gonna teach me how to kill monsters._

"No, ma'am. I just need some space," he lied.

"Can't you at least tell me where you're going?" his mother begged.

"Mom," Dean tried not to whine. "I promise to call you every day. Okay?"

Mary was silent for a moment. "Every day, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am." Dean tried to sound normal even though he was scared out of his mind.

"I love you," Mary said quietly.

Dean knew his mother was worried. "I love you, too," he replied, trying to reassure her that he was okay.

Dean pulled up outside of what looked like a bomb shelter set in the side of a hill. He looked down at the map Cas had marked the route he should take on and looked back at the door in the side of the hill.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean jumped in his seat when he heard Cas right outside his door. "Geez, Cas! Don't _do _that!"

Cas chuckled. "My apologies."

Dean opened his door and stepped out. "So what is this place, anyway?" He asked, looking around as he reached into the backseat to grab his duffel bag.

"This is actually all yours." Cas pulled a rectangular box with strange markings out of his pocket and walked up to the door. "Your paternal grandfather was the last survivor of a secret society called the 'Men of Letters' who were dedicated to the study of the supernatural and the protection of the unsuspecting public. As the sole survivor of the massacre, everything that belonged to them belongs to him and his descendants."

Dean ran after Cas. "Wait, the dude that ditched my dad as a kid?"

"Actually," Cas corrected while opening the box and producing a key. "Henry Winchester was accidentally transported to the future when he created a portal rather hurriedly to escape Abaddon. He should be here in a few years." Cas unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Dean's surprise at the news that his grandfather _didn't _abandon his family was quickly overtaken by the awe of what he saw when he entered the door.

What Cas described as "The Bunker" was at first glance an enormous room with a stairway leading from the door down to the floor, floor to ceiling and wall to wall shelves of books in every language known to man (and some unknown) and halls leading to who knows where.

"Wow..." was all Dean could utter.

Castiel laughed and started down the stairs, Dean following close behind.

"Come on, I'll give you the tour before you settle in for the night."

Dean set his duffel on the bed and began to pull his clothes out and place them neatly in the dresser.

_Not bad digs for an angel. _Dean looked around his room and, despite the sparseness and blandness, it was actually very welcoming.

A bed sat in the middle of the back wall, headboard against the wall, and an end table on either side, lamps on both, a dresser on the right and small closet on the left wall.

Dean finished with his clothes and pulled out a few books from the bottom, which he set on the desk before pulling out the picture frame that was carefully packed in the side pocket of the bag.

Dean set it on the night stand and pushed the duffel underneath the bed before stopped and looked at the picture for a moment. It was from last Christmas where Mary had made everyone sit on the couch so she could set the timer on the camera and get a picture of everyone together. Everyone was smiling, even John, but especially Sam with Jess next to him.

Dean sighed, peeling off his many layers (which he never knew why he wore, he just did) and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a tshirt before collapsing face-first onto the bed. It had been a long day.

**The Bunker, The Next Morning**

Dean was woken by someone shaking him.

"5 more minutes, Sammy." He mumbled into his blankets.

The shaking continued a bit rougher. "Dean, it's time to get up."

Dean lifted his head so he could turn it and look at the disturber of his slumber.

"Cas?" He rubbed his eyes sleepily and rolled onto his side.

"Come on, get breakfast so we can start. Long day ahead of us." Cas said smacking Dean's feet (which he had forgotten to unshoe) and walking out.

Dean half rolled, half crawled off the bed and slowly stood, stretching before stumbling out into the hall and towards the kitchen.

Castiel definitely knew what he was doing when getting groceries because every cabinet in the kitchen was filled with all the ingredients to Dean's favorite foods.

Dean wandered over to the fridge and pulled down a box of cereal from the top and rummaged in the fridge for the milk, still trying to see through the last vestiges of sleep.

Cas walked through the door just as Dean was sitting down at the island in the middle of the kitchen to eat with a large stack of books.

_The Hunter's Guide to Ghosts, The Diary of Samuel Colt, Encyclopedia of Monsters and Demons by Theodore Roosevelt _and _The Complete History of the Men of Letters_, to name a few.

"Start reading," he dictated, setting the stack on the table in front of Dean.

_This is gonna be a long day, _Dean mused.


End file.
